


Extraordinary

by samcaarter



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Episode: s04e20 Entity, F/M, Season/Series 04, this ship is like 60 percent angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24787213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samcaarter/pseuds/samcaarter
Summary: Janet: I don’t know if she ever told you this, but Sam made a living will. No extraordinary means.Jack: Yeah, she told me.Sam tells Jack about her living will
Relationships: Sam Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 30
Kudos: 98





	Extraordinary

Things have been a little strained between them lately. Not in the field, it's like the guise of colonel and major make them different people, professional to the bone, but when they're home. The strangeness isn't lost on him, they're still on duty when they're on base, still colonel and major, but some paradigm shifts and he finds he doesn't know what to say to her. 

It doesn’t affect this unrelenting pull he feels, the desire to be around her. On most days he distracts himself with some trivial thing, like annoying Daniel. Or sparring with Teal'c. Or doing his job as the base 2IC. But sometimes, only sometimes, he stops fighting it and seeks her out.

His fingers gently knock on the door frame, as he questions the wisdom of being here, but it's too late to run. 

"Sir." Carter raises her head from some papers laid out in front of her. 

"Hey," he says softly. It's long past their office hours, but it's nothing unusual for them to stay working late. The expression 'married to the job' comes to his mind more often these days, and occasionally he wonders if it's because he'd rather be married to someone else.

"Are you here to tell me to go home?" she says with the tiniest of smiles. 

"Would it make any difference?" He can make it an order of course, but he doesn't want to put her in a position where she would have to disobey it. They both don't have anything to go home to.

Curling her lips downwards, she looks thoughtful. "You never know until you try. Sir."

Stepping inside her space, he moves until he's standing opposite her, the table between them like a perfect metaphor. "I think this time it's safe to say that I know," he says, deliberately making his tone accusing, knowing she won't be offended. 

She looks down, an involuntary smile gracing her lips, as it does when he amuses her. Jack gratefully accepts this small victory, this visit is already going much better than he anticipated. 

"If you're trying to lead by example, sir, then you're doing a very good job," she says and he feels his own lips twitch. It's not often she talks back to him, but he loves the moments she does. He catalogues the tiny details of when and how and what, just to try and find a pattern.

"Well, I'm glad you're learning something, Major."

She raises her eyes to meet his, holding a smile in place for a heartbeat or two before it disappears. "Actually, I'm glad you're here. There's something I wanted to show you."

He puts his elbows down, leaning on the table. She must be working on something and he doesn't have anything better to do anyway. "Sure," he says easily. "What's up?" 

Shuffling the papers, she finds what she's looking for and pushes the single sheet towards him.

"What-" Jack trails off when he realizes what it is. Taking it, he automatically gets to his feet, it doesn't feel appropriate to lean. "You wrote a will?" 

"I did." She doesn't offer anything else and he looks at her. She doesn't shy away. 

"Why?" 

"Because it's a good idea to have a will. I have some assets and in case something happens to me, I want them to go to the people I love." There's a gentle reprimand in her tone. He has to admit she's right. 

He hums in response, not really knowing what to say. The reality of their lives, the risks they take almost every day, is easy enough to ignore when they're safely back home. But one day-- he doesn't let himself finish this sentence.

"That's not what I wanted to tell you though," she says, looking away from him.

His eyebrows climb his forehead, he's not sure he's ready for another surprise. "There's more?"

"Yeah. I think as my commanding officer you should know." She takes a deep breath, composing herself and Jack's whole body stiffens. So much for a light conversation. "If something were to happen to me, I don't want any special treatment."

For a long second he thinks he's gone deaf. The white noise of the ever beeping and humming machines in her lab disappears. He has tunnel vision and all he sees is Carter's face, calm and composed, she might as well have told him she was planning to make pasta for dinner.

"What does that mean?" He hears the words come out of his mouth.

She drags her hand through her already disheveled hair. "That I don't want any resources wasted on me. Nothing unconventional. No extraordinary means." 

He jerks back, feeling as if she's just slapped him. One of them has gone mad and he has no idea who. 

"You're joking, right?" Because it's the only explanation. A cruel and unnecessary joke on him. To test his... His what?

She shakes her head. "I've thought about it, Colonel, it's what I want."

Maybe he’s walked into a parallel universe. He knows it means trouble when _parallel universe_ is a logical explanation. "To hell with what you want," he snaps. 

Carter's eyes spark with anger. "A few months ago, that would be exactly the case. But not anymore."

"Do you even hear what you're asking?" He throws the paper he's been holding down in disgust. "Does anyone else know about this?" 

"Janet knows about it. As the CMO, she needs to know. And I can trust her to enforce it," she finishes stubbornly.

Jack rubs his palm over his mouth, this isn’t happening. "Why?" She takes a breath to say something, but he interrupts her. "Do you think you're not worth it?"

It seems to hit a nerve, she slides off her stool, biting her lip. His eyes follow her every move, but it can't be it. She knows how valuable she is to him. To them. To the SGC and their whole damn planet. 

Rounding the table he stops in front of her. "Why?" He asks again, voice and anger he's feeling inside carefully controlled. "You know there's nothing we wouldn't do to keep you alive."

She crosses her arms over her chest, this simple gesture seems to further accentuate the rift between them. "Alive. But alive how?" 

He frowns. 

Swallowing hard, she continues, "It was only later when I realized why you really volunteered to undergo Anise's procedure." His face contorts but she ignores it. "I almost allowed Janet to put me to sleep. Indefinitely. That doesn't fit my definition of alive. Keeping me asleep would require someone caring for me as well."

"We weren't Za’tarcs," he interrupts.

"No, but it could be anything else." Staring right into him it feels, she lets her arms fall down her sides. "When there's no hope. When it's something you wouldn't want done for yourself. That's when I want to be let go."

Jack takes a step back. Possible scenarios flash through his mind, each worse than the last. Something grips inside his chest, making it hard to breath. Frightening him. Despite everything they've been through, he realizes he's never seriously considered the thought of her dying. Correction, of carrying on without Carter.

He’d rather die than lose her. Trapped on Apophis’s ship, it was easy to make that decision. What would he do if his imminent death wasn’t such an easy option? He clenches his fists, his palms are slick with sweat.

He carried on after Charlie. Can he carry on after Carter?

"Please, sir," she says quietly. He's not even sure what she's asking for. It's done. Signed and stamped. He can scream and fight, but it's what she _wants_. He has no legal ground to say anything.

Does she want his acceptance?

Her bright blue eyes shine with unshed tears and he can't do this. He looks away. “Yeah, anything for you, Major,” he says, cold and maybe a little hollow. Carefully stepping around her, he miscalculates and his shoulder brushes against hers.

“Sir.”

No extraordinary measures for the extraordinary person.

He hears her take in a sharp breath, but doesn’t turn around. 

When he’s far enough from her lab and sure that she isn't following him, he stops, acutely aware of the hundreds of thousands tons of concrete and steel keeping the ground from coming down onto him, swallowing him whole. An involuntary chuckle rips from his mouth, the thought seems appropriate. Maybe he’s already there. 

_I’d have rather died myself than lose Carter._

Maybe he already knows the answer.


End file.
